


Hysteria

by Jacqualine



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Complete, F/M, Gilbert never returned to Avonlea after Alberta, Gratuitous Smut, Hand Jobs, Homesickness, Masturbation, Medical Kink, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Shirbert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:02:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22214509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacqualine/pseuds/Jacqualine
Summary: Diana takes Anne to the doctors. Now complete!!
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 111
Kudos: 563
Collections: Shirbert smut





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are some theories that during the Victorian Age, any number of afflictions and ailments a woman suffered would be diagnosed as "Female Hysteria" and that the doctors would help these woman achieve orgasm as a cure. This is a smutty, fluffy take on all this. It won't be a real kinky story with medical equipment as sexual aids. 
> 
> This is an A/U where Gilbert and Anne never met, because he never returned to Avonlea after he took his dad to Alberta. He is nearing the end of medical school and his apprenticeship. Anne is taking a few years at college so she is about 18-19.

After another fruitless evening of accomplishing nothing, no homework completed, household chores unfinished, a restless sleepless night to follow, Diana announced that after breakfast, she would take Anne to the doctor. 

"It's not medical..." Anne began to interrupt. 

"If it is affecting your school work it may be. I am concerned Anne." Diana urged her. It had been more than three full weeks since Anne had sleep through the night, her schoolwork, always completed on time, if not early, was now sometimes late and Anne's grades had slipped slightly. Anne chalked it up to being homesick, lonely for her family in Avonlea, and perhaps just a little fear about growing up, she was just a few months from finishing college and entering a new stage in her life, becoming a teacher. She knew the odds of her finding a job close to Avonlea were pretty low and she was nervous about being all on her own again, at least at college she had Diana, and the other girls from Avonlea. But she would be an adult and responsible for not only her life, but those of her students. It all felt too overwhelming, and that didn't include her near constant worry that something would happen to Matthew, Jerry had taken over a lot of the responsibility of Green Gables, but Matthew wasn't about to retire to a rocking chair by the fire. 

"We can go see Dr. Ward as soon as we are finished breakfast." Diana decided. Anne knew there was no point in arguing because Diana would either tell Aunt Jo, who would make he go to the doctor, or Marilla, who would come to Charlottetown and take Anne to the doctor. 

"Fine, but I hope you will drop it when he says there is nothing wrong with me." 

"I will." Diana agreed. 

They had to wait nearly 30 minutes to see Dr. Ward and then they were in his examination room, with Anne on the table and Diana on a chair in the corner. He asked Anne several questions while he examined her eyes, ears and throat, Diana also providing details that she deemed important. "It sounds to me that you are suffering from Hysteria, brought on by melancholia." 

"Hysteria? What is that?" Anne asked, the romantic part of her swooned at the word melancholia. It sounded so tragical, as if she had a torrid romance and her heart was broken and she was now suffering a life filled with melancholy. 

"It is brought on by many things. Too much stress, sadness, anxiety, anger, but the cure is quite simple and easy, in fact I will have my apprentice provide the cure twice a week for let's say a month to start, if you require more at the end we can reassess then." Dr. Ward told them as he jotted down notes on Anne's chart. 

"What is the cure? An injection?" Anne inquired, shivering at the idea of a needle.

"Oh, nothing that invasive. Just a simple massage." That didn't sound so bad to Anne. Diana and her often rubbed each others backs, shoulders and necks after long days. "I'll ask you Miss Barry to leave the room with me so that Miss Shirley can prepare to see my apprentice. Miss Shirley, please remove your clothes and lay on the bed, under this blanket. " He indicated to a blanket on the end of the bed. 

"Everything?" She asked nervously. 

"Oh yes, it is very professional, nothing to worry about. The massage will be to your genitals..your lower half so if you are uncomfortable you may leave on your blouse." Genitals? What did that mean? Before she could ask him, he shut the door behind him and Anne debated following him out the door. He was a doctor, he knew what he was doing, she should follow his orders. She quickly removed her skirt, folding it up and laying on the chair Diana had vacated, and her underclothes, shoes and hose, laying those atop her skirt and then running to the table and climbing onto the bed and covering herself with the itchy grey blanket. 

"Gilbert, I want you to treat the patient in room three for hysteria." Dr. Ward 

"Hysteria, sir?" Gilbert couldn't believe it. He was well learned in it of course, but he wasn't sure he agreed it was a real thing. He had read all the medical journals on the topic, required reading of course, but there was enough dissenting opinions of the subject, that he had his doubts. 

"Yes a young lady suffering from melancholia. You are well versed in the technique?"

"In theory sir." Gilbert admitted, he had never actually performed the procedure. 

"It's a simple thing, use the clear oil in the room, start out slow and then speed up. You will know by the patients reaction to the procedure, when to finish." Dr. Ward instructed, patting Gilbert's shoulder as he left to see his next patient. Gilbert took a look at the patient's chart and walked to room three, knocked on the door, to make sure she was ready for him and waited for her "Come in."

"Good afternoon, Miss Shirley, I am Dr. Ward's apprentice, Dr. Blythe." He looked up from his chart to see a shock of red hair, twisted up into a knot on her head, and huge blue eyes that held a torrent of emotions, fear being the dominant one. He smiled, reassuringly and closed the door behind him. 

"Hello..." She responded, her face flushing red. What a beautiful face she had, dotted with freckles. 'That is extremely inappropriate thinking Gilbert.' He said to himself.

"Has Dr. Ward explained the procedure to you?" He asked, setting her chart down on the desk and moving to the wash basin to clean his hands. 

"In no great detail, he did mention a massage." She answered, her voice trembling. He dried his hands and turned to face her, pulling the doctors stool up beside her, she clutched the blanket closer to her chin. 

"It is a massage, to the genitals..." At her look of question, he bit back a retort about the lack of proper education provided to young women and tried to explain. "The genitals are the sex organs." He motioned toward her private area. At the understanding her eyes grew even larger and they began to glisten with unshed tears. "Miss Shirley, let me assure you that this is a very common procedure, and you will feel much better afterward. It won't hurt and if you feel too much discomfort, you must tell me so I can change techniques." She bit her lip and nodded. 

"Alright, I will apply some oil to my fingers, if you prefer I will keep the blanket over you, for modesty." He looked at her and she nodded and he smiled again. "Then I will put my hand under the blanket and I will need you to open your legs as wide as you can, and I will begin the procedure."

"It won't hurt?" She asked with some trepidation. 

"Not at all, in fact if you need me to apply more pressure, do not hesitate to ask." He informed her. He put the oil on the fingers of his right hand and used the left to lift the blanket, catching just a glimpse of creamy white skin. "I'll begin." He put his left hand on her upper thigh, causing her to jump at the touch, and he reached toward where her vulva should be and ran his fingers up and down the lips there, moistening them too, at that touch she jumped and yelped, looking at him with panic. "You are doing great, you will feel much better in a few minutes."

He hoped it would be a few minutes, he had never done this to a patient or a woman. He hadn't even seen a woman naked before, except for the medical cadavers at school, and even though the other guys had joked and looked, opening and peering deeply, he had done nothing more than a cursory look. Just so he would know what it actually looked like. 

He slipped his fingers between the lips and felt for the clitoris, the bump unmistakable, and her gasp of surprise letting him know he found it. He stroked it softly, spreading the oil around to get it properly covered, keeping his eyes on a spot across the room and then began to rub around the clitoris in small, soft circles, reciting the parts of the female anatomy to himself. He had to stay professional, no reaction but her soft whimpers were distracting him, he desperately wanted to look at her face, to see her. 

"Dr. Blythe, something's happening." She gasped, he voice a raw mixture of fear and something else, something that had his cock twitching. 'Jesus, Gilbert be professional and not a some sort of letch.' He yelled in his own head. 

"It's alright Miss. Shirley, it's the normal reaction the the massage and exactly what we are hoping to accomplish. Try to relax and let it happen, it will keep building and become quite intense. It doesn't hurt?" He asked to make sure she was alright, making the mistake of looking at her. 

"No, it's...Oh..." She cried out softly as he continued to rub, locking her eyes on his. Her face was flushed red, her eyes wide with wonder, her mouth half open as though she were struggling to breath. He couldn't have looked away if he wanted to, he was captivated by her, his cock thickening with blood and twitching to be released from his pants. Her hips began to move in time to his hand, bucking up against him, his left hand still on her thigh, gripped her a little tighter and her back arched at that, but she never broke eye contact with him. 

"Oh my...Dr. Blythe..." She cried biting her lip and grabbing his arm through the blanket, as if to keep him in place. 

"Let go..." He whispered to her. And she did, her eyes closed finally and she slammed her legs closed on his hand but continued to buck against him, so he continued to rub, letting his left hand caress her thigh for just a moment, chiding his unprofessionalism, but her loud moans and her body jerking in intense spasms had his mouth hanging open as he slowed down his hand, letting her ride the orgasm out. She was so beautiful. When she stopped moving he withdrew his hands and moved back to the basin and washed his hands, picked up her chart and moved to the door.

"Good day Miss Shirley. If you have any follow up questions you must not hesitate to ask Dr. Ward." He fled the room and went to Dr. Ward's office, relieved that it was currently empty and recited the list of human bones. He had to get a hold of himself. 

"What happened Anne?" Diana asked on the walk back to their boarding house.

"I honestly don't know, but I feel amazing." Anne replied with a smile.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Treatment Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, thanks for the love and support! This is a short one, just to get it to where I need it. But there is smut!

"Are you sure you don't need me to accompany you?" Diana asked Anne, the morning of her next appointment. It had been three days and Anne couldn't get it out of her mind. She still missed Green Gables, was still worried about her future and Matthew, and still found it hard to concentrate on her homework, but she had slept a lot better. She hadn't been able to explain to Diana what had happened at the doctors. She told her the details but didn't understand what had happened herself. "But what did it feel like?" Diana had asked.

"Wonderful, like a tightening sensation, getting tighter and tighter and then snapping." Anne failed to explain.

She had thought of that feeling quite often, and just the memory of it would give her the similar feeling, like soft echos of it. Gentle stirring waves, that left her genitals wet and aching.

She was looking forward to it again, pleased that it would be Dr. Blythe performing the procedure for the duration, and not Dr. Ward. Dr. Ward was gentle and friendly and handsome in an older gentlemanly way but Dr. Blythe was handsome, dark and mysterious but also possessed a kind demeanor, she would prefer he was touching her in such a place rather than Dr. Ward. 

Gilbert thought about it too. Furious with himself for having a physical reaction to a patient. As a doctor, he had a sworn duty to provide medical assistance to his patients, to stay impartial and unaffected, while providing compassionate and effective care. But he had become aroused during a medical procedure, and he was deeply ashamed of himself. Too embarrassed to discuss it with Dr. Ward, he suffered in silence, mentally disparaging himself whenever, and it was often, he thought of Miss Anne Shirley and her soft pink lips and creamy white thighs. It had gotten so bad that he had dreamed of her and ejaculated while sleeping, messing his clothes and sheets like a boy. Worse yet she was returning for at least seven more appointments and he was supposed to perform the procedure each time. He couldn't think of a reasonable excuse to get out of it, without revealing the truth to Dr. Ward, and so resigned himself to performing the procedure and hoped that it wouldn't affect him, or at least the effect would lessen over time. 

"Miss Shirley is in room two, Dr. Blythe." Hazel, Dr. Ward's secretary informed him. He nodded and picked up the chart and headed into the room. 

"Good afternoon, Miss Shirley." She was sitting on the examination table, her hair once again up in a knot on the top of her head, a few tendrils had escaped and framed her face. "Before we begin, I just need to follow up. Any change in mood since the last time you were here?"

"Not really." She replied softly. He glanced up from the chart, making eye contact, and tried to smile reassuringly at her. 

"These things take time. No pain or irritation in the area?" He asked, at her hesitation he paused. "Are you experiencing something?"

She blushed and nodded, "Not pain."

"Itchiness?"

"Not exactly...I don't know what to call it. It feels pleasurable..." He wasn't sure how her face got redder, and felt his face flush too. 

"I see...that is quite normal. How are you sleeping?"

"Much better, I slept straight through the first night, but not as much the last two nights. It is more than I was getting so I am feeling so much more refreshed." She smiled as she spoke and Gilbert found himself dazzled by her beauty. 

"Well that is exactly what we are hoping for." Did his voice just crack? "I will leave you alone for a few minutes and you can disrobe and lay down under the blanket." He informed her and left the room, trying to get a hold of himself.

She removed her clothes, leaving her blouse on again and got under the blanket on the examination table, her breath coming quicker than before in anticipation. She was trying to slow her breathing when there was the knock at the door and she jumped a bit. "Come in." She called out. Dr. Blythe entered the room and walked to the wash basin. 

"It will be the same as the last time, you know what to expect and know there is nothing to fear." He stated as he washed his hands. Then he put the oil on his fingers again and moved to to the table. "May I?" He pointed to the blanket and she nodded. She didn't jump this time when she felt his hand on her thigh, it wasn't cold but cooler than her skin and felt pleasant, his hand was soft and she wished he would stroke her leg, like last time. When his other hand went under the blanket and began sliding and probing her, she bit back a sigh. It felt so good, like a tickle but a tickle that sent waves of pleasure from that spot he rubbed, throughout her body. 

She couldn't stop herself from making noise, she had been mortified by the noises and words she had made the last time and had vowed to be silent this time, but she was whimpering again. She let go of her tight grip on the blanket and one hand moved to her chest, gently stroking her own throat and collarbones, through her blouse, wishing she had removed the blouse this time, wishing it was his hand on her neck. Her other hand once again gripped his wrist, holding it there, as he sped up, her hips bucking against his hand. She felt her body tensing up and she cried out softly, the feeling was so intense and overwhelming, she tried to close her legs and to move his hand away, but he held his hand in place, still rubbing those circles, sometimes hard sometimes soft, and his other hand held her thigh down, keeping her open. It felt almost lewd, to have a man holding her most private place open, covered only with a blanket for modesty, the idea of shocking it should be made her feel deliciously sinful and she felt the coiling inside of her spring. She felt herself arching her back completely off the table, and stuffed her fist against her mouth to smother her cries, had they not been muffled she was sure they would have been screams. She felt as though her soul had left her body and she was floating a few feet above, Dr. Blythe, slowed down his movements and she felt herself pulled back in as she had a few more spasms and pleasurable jolts. She laid there gasping, eyes closed, trying to get a hold of herself. She felt him take his hands away from her and heard him move to the wash basin to wash his hands, she cracked open her eyes and saw him pick up her chart and head for the door.

"Good day Miss. Shirley, we'll see you next week for you next appointment."

"Thank you Doctor." She replied automatically. Her legs felt like jelly and she had a hard time standing while she put on her hose, but she felt so loose, and relaxed, she hadn't felt like this for months. These treatments were beginning to work.

Gilbert practically shoved his last patient out the door, he wrote down some comments in the patient's chart, said goodnight to Dr. Ward and Hazel and nearly ran to his apartment. It was located above the offices of law firm about a 15 minute walk from Dr. Ward's. Gilbert ran there in just over five minutes. He locked the door to his apartment, sat on his bed, pulled his dick out, already rock hard, and proceeded to remember everything about Anne Shirley. Her red hair that looked like fire, her eyes that would become huge, just as her orgasm hit, the freckles on her hand that if connected would look like a sword, the little gasps and moans she made, the way she bit her soft pink lips, that got darker and pinker when she was aroused. He recalled how she was already wet when he tried to lubricate her with the oil, he squeezed his cock hard and stroked it faster, in his head he heard her gasping "Dr. Blythe" and felt his own hot, sticky release all over his hand. The same hand that had stroked Anne.

"You need to stop treating her." He told himself, even as he looked forward to Monday, when she would be in again.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another treatment for Anne, and Gilbert is struggling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are amazing with all the love and support you give me! I truly appreciate it and get inspired. So much so that chapter four is almost finished. 
> 
> This is told entirely from Gilbert's POV, enjoy!

He had every intention of talking to Dr. Ward, to inform him that he couldn't continue to provide the treatment for Anne Shirley because he had developed unprofessional feelings...urges really, for her. But he was a coward and hadn't said anything, instead he went about his days, treating his patients and learning from Dr. Ward. He noticed that he treated other attractive women, he never had any response like he had with Miss Shirley. He decided it was because he was touching her in a place in a way that would be erotic, if he were her husband, but he was a doctor and not touching her in a sexual way but a medical way. His off time was spent obsessing about her and he read every chapter, passage and paper he could find in the medical library about hysteria and female orgasm.

He really didn't believe female hysteria was a real thing or that the treatment was medically necessary. He also wondered why women couldn't just do it for themselves, he wasn't naive, he knew there must be some that did, but why weren't mothers or aunts telling girls to do this for themselves? Then perhaps he wouldn't see so many girls "having" to get married because they had giving into urges and had sexual relations, or women who had lain with a man and he had run off when she got with child. They were in the 20th century, the modern age but things stayed the same socially. Women were repressed sexually and when they had serious medical issues, they were dismissed into one huge vague catchall of "hysteria". 

He knew he didn't want to stop treating her.

Treatment Three was scheduled for his last appointment of the day. Dr. Ward had three more patients after Gilbert, so he would have to stay in case there was something he needed to assist with or a case he hadn't had a chance to see. He was glad that he wouldn't have to stay too long afterward because they way he was already anticipating it, he knew he would need to go home and "treat" himself after. He entered the office and found her already under the blanket, causing him to still for a moment. 

"I figured I would save us both some time and just get ready now." She said brightly, although her voice held a tremor of nerves, as though she was worried she did something wrong. 

"Great idea. You know us doctors always running behind schedule." He joked and he felt his heart squeeze at her laugh. "So how are you feeling?"

"Oh Dr. Blythe, I have had such a wonderful weekend. I slept so soundly, and I even managed to apply for three teaching jobs. A week ago I was too out of sorts to do it."

"Wonderful. And home? You still miss that?" 

She nodded sadly. "More than words can express, you can not imagine how hard it is to be away from the people you love, and worrying that because they are older that anything could happen." And he could imagine it, he was an orphan, his entire family gone. He was the last Blythe, and he felt sad a lot of the time too. 

"Homesickness is completely normal for someone living away from home. But when it hampers your day to day living, studies or work, that is when we need to intervene. Now, any irritation, discomfort?" She just smiled and shook her head and he put down the chart. 

"Let's begin shall we?" He said as he went to wash his hands, after he dried them he removed his coat, it was quite warm in the office, the weather for this time of spring, unusually hot. He applied the oil, and walked over to her, putting his left hand on her thigh as usual and slid the fingers of his right hand over her vulva, he didn't really need the oil she was so wet there, her hand going to her mouth to stifle her cries with the back of her fingers. He wanted to tell her to let it out, he wanted to hear her cries of ecstasy, but instead, he studied her face, watching the pleasure roll across it. She bit her lip, as she seemed to do every time, her eyes always became so large, the pupils dilating, the doctor part of him was fascinated by this, he hadn't read anything about pupils during orgasm, in the medical books, she liked to touch her neck, she did it last time and this time too, her fingers, gently stroking the skin there. Following her fingers with his eyes, he could see her pulse pounding in her neck, he wondered how she would react when she was kissed there, knowing that was dangerous territory, he looked at her face again, suppressing a smile at the little furrow she had between her eyes, not from anger or pain, but concentration, he guessed she must be trying to focus on what was happening. He wanted to tell her to just relax and let him do it but couldn't form words. 

"It's so hot in here." She gasped, he noticed for the first time, she had a sheen of perspiration on her face, he had some as well. 

"Should I stop?" He asked her, halting his movements. 

"No! I'll just....oh!" She didn't finish because he resumed rubbing his fingers over her clitoris. He watched in fascination as her hand let go of his wrist, when had she grabbed it? And undid the top three buttons of her blouse, exposing the top of her chemise to him and her entire upper chest and collar bones to him, and then her legs were moving and she kicked most of the blankets off her legs, now bare from just above her knees and down. "That's better. Do you mind Dr. Blythe?" She asked as her body began to shake, she was very close and he found himself saddened by it, he didn't want it to end so soon.

"As long as you're comfortable Miss Shirley. " He answered. Did he mind? How could he tell her she was bewitching him, causing him to lose focus, to lose the impossibly thin, paper thin, hold on his willpower? How did he tell her that he would remember the sight of her long alabaster legs until the end of his days? That he would dream of unbuttoning those buttons on her blouse and kissing her collar bones? 

"I feel heavenly." She gasped as her back arched and she cried out, once again covering her mouth with her fist. The hand that usually held his wrist, reached out and missed, grabbing a hold of his shirt instead, her hand for the briefest of seconds, touching him, through the thin cotton, stroking him just below his left nipple, causing him to jump slightly at the contact, glad she was too preoccupied to notice his reaction. After he slowed his motions, and she was laying still, eyes closed, catching her breath, her damp skin glowing, he took those moments to look at her exposed legs, long and shapely, and even a few freckles dotting the skin there too. He removed his hands and walked to the wash basin, washed his hands, put his long white doctors coat on and picked up her chart. 

"Have a nice day, Miss Shirley." He took the chart back to Dr. Ward's office and took several moments to calm himself down, quickly reciting the bones of the human body and throwing in a few verses from the bible he had memorized as a child. Grateful for the long coat that hid his throbbing cock, that was just aching to be touched, or to be buried deep inside...

"Gilbert, we have a biter and they need an injection, some assistance please." Dr. Ward informed him from the doorway. 

"Coming Doctor."

An hour later, with his finger cleaned and bandaged, after little Cora Clifford had managed to get it between her teeth and not let go, Gilbert walked through his apartment door, images of Anne filling his mind. He wanted to pull his dick out and start stroking it right away, but he forced himself to stay controlled, taking off his hat and coat, taking off his shoes and work clothes, changing into more comfortable home clothes. He read the newspaper as he ate the meat pie he had picked up at a nearby bakery and cleaned up afterward. He studied for a couple of hours, and then got into bed naked, only then allowing his willpower go. He didn't go right to his cock, instead he lightly stroked the skin on his arms, chest, and throat, imagining soft white fingers touching him there, brushing lightly over the spot her hand had accidentally touched. When he finally skimmed his hand lower, his cock was already engorged, feeling heavier and harder than it ever had before. He recalled every image he had in his head of her, soft pink lips that were partially open, wet from her tongue coming out to wet them, he imagined that tongue coming out to lick the milky white drop at the tip of his dick and that was it, he fell over the edge, shooting the hot liquid all over his stomach and hand. 

He didn't even feel guilty anymore.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Treatment four, from Anne's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is so easy, it almost write's itself. Thank you so much for the comments and support. It's funny how one throwaway line can change the story. Thank you to Monoi for reminding me of this fact, glad I had time to include it in this chapter before posting.

She knew she should be ashamed, but she honestly wasn't. She didn't know if it was because at the moment all she could think of was achieving that feeling, that sweet, incredible, soul wrecking feeling when Dr. Blythe performed the treatment, or if it was because he was a doctor and a medical professional, had seen plenty of women in states of undress, and it had been excruciatingly hot in the room but she had revealed nearly all of her legs, happily and willingling. She could never tell Diana that or heaven forbid Marilla, they would be so shocked by her behaviour, she had stopped being shocked by herself, at least by what she did in the examination room. Dr. Blythe hadn't seemed bothered by it so she assumed that what she was doing was normal during the procedure, and it had been so hot. Even Dr. Blythe had been sweating, she couldn't stop thinking about how his hair had become curlier, with the added moisture and how she had tracked a single, solitary drop of sweat, as it had run down the side of his face, down his jaw and his neck and disappeared into the collar of his shirt. She often found herself thinking about him, his hands, not just the way they massaged her, but the way his hand laid on her thigh, how he gripped the pen, when he was writing down notes in her chart. Long fingers, not too thick or thin, but just right in proportion. She remembered once Diana commenting that one of their professors had the hands of a pianist, Anne, imagined Dr. Blythe must also share a similar hand structure with a pianist. 

And his eyebrows, how they seemed to speak a language of their own. She had decided that he wasn't even aware that his eyebrows moved around so much. Joining together when he asked her a question, one of them raising up when she answered the question. Both of them jumping in surprise that first time she grabbed his wrist, no, that wasn't something the other patients did to him, but he hadn't told her to stop and she wasn't sure if she could in the moment. And his eyes, initially she had thought them brown, warm and soft and full of compassion but each time she met with him, she noticed new colours in their depths, amber, green and grey, they were so expressive, she couldn't read what they always said but she could see a depth of emotion there, she knew there was never anger, disgust or harsh judgment there and that made her feel at absolute ease with him. Which is why she brought up a subject that she normally felt horror at.

It was late afternoon Friday, she had rushed over after her last class, and the secretary had shown her to the examination room, once again overbearingly hot, she removed her skirt, shoes, hose and bloomers, and then at the last second her blouse, leaving on her corset and chemise and got on the table under the blanket, pulled up to her chin to cover her bare shoulders. At his knock, she called out "Come in."

"Good afternoon, Miss Shirley. How are we today?" He asked. 

"Fantastical. I have managed to finish a big project that I just couldn't before. I think I did a really good job and I got a test back and I did really well after a huge study session so I guess my concentration is coming back."

"That is good news indeed. And the other things?"

"I still miss home, I don't think that will ever change. But I did apply for a teaching position not too far from there so fingers crossed, I will get it."

"Good luck then." He smiled, he was even more handsome when he smiled like that.

"There is one other thing..." She trailed off. And those eyebrows raised in question. 

"Has there been pain or irritation?"

"Oh no, nothing like that. I uhm...I am due to get my monthly..."

"Oh, menstruation?" His eyebrows dropped and furrowed, while he consulted the chart. "You told Dr. Ward they are regular and come on schedule?"

"Yes so, it should begin Sunday. I wasn't sure if the treatment could proceed while I had it."

"The treatment can take place during that time, if you feel comfortable. There are protective gloves that can be worn." 

"Won't it be messy?" She asked, since the day she first started bleeding she had been told no one should know or see that you have your period. 

"Yes...but medicine usually is." He chuckled. "If you prefer we can skip that day and just add it on at the end of your schedule."

"The treatments are working. Will it hinder the progress I have made if we skip a day?" She didn't want to backslide, she was just starting to feel like herself again, excited to apply for jobs and see where the future would take her. 

"I don't believe so."

"I think I would prefer to skip it then." She told him, feeling relieved that it wouldn't harm her. 

"I'll make a note of it in your chart and be sure to rebook for a convenient time and date with Hazel when you leave. "

"Alright." She nodded. 

She studied him as he removed his long coat and laid it on the desk and he rolled up his sleeves, exposing the muscles of his forearms, with a light dusting of dark hair, she noticed he had a bandage around his ring finger on his left hand, and wondered what had happened. But she soon found herself distracted by his back. His shoulders were quite wide, and she could see the muscles of his back move as he washed and dried his hands. She got a chill of anticipation as he applied the oil to his fingers and moved toward her. 

"May I?" He asked and she nodded. 

"Oh!" She said just as she felt his hand on her upper thigh, he still immediately. "It was so hot in here I took off my blouse too. I thought I should tell you, so I didn't surprise you." She felt her face flushing with blood. His hand squeezed her thigh tightly, but not painfully and he took a deep breath, staring at the wall in front of him for a few moments and she worried she had done something wrong.

"That's fine Anne. I'll begin if you are ready." He said, was there a tremor in his voice? 

When his fingers slid against her, she didn't even try and stop the moan that escaped her. It felt like seconds before her blood was pounding through her veins, and those now familiar tendrils of pleasure were emanating from where Dr. Blythe was massaging her, running down her legs, up her arms and through her torso. This felt like standing in the ocean on a cool April morning, like climbing to the top of a tall tree, like running through the woods as fast as you could until you had no breath left, it felt exhilarating. She looked at his face, staring at his jaw, watching as it clenched and then relaxed, fascinated by the way the bone and muscle moved together, how she longed to reach out and feel it against her palm. She tore her gaze from his jaw and moved to his eyes, gasping as his fingers worked their magic, she was so close now, that feeling building, his eyes weren't on the wall, they were rapidly darting over her, on her chest, her lips, her eyes, even her hair. The blanket had shifted, lowered, perhaps she had shrugged it off, it was sweltering under the blanket, only then did she realize that she had one of her hands in her own hair, stroking it softly, the other was trailing soft touches over her now bare and exposed shoulder and chest. Her corset, squeezed in her waist and pushed up her breasts, laying down allowed them to spill even more over the top of her chemise and she was just mere inches from having her nipples exposed to Dr. Blythe, and she didn't want to cover them. The knowledge that she wanted to be exposed like this for him, caused a warm wetness to actually flow from her down there and she felt the tension in her body break. She knew her cries were getting louder so she covered her mouth and felt her body spasm, Dr. Blythe slowed down his motions and Anne gasped for breath, but then he said. 

"Again." It wasn't a question, and the tone of his voice, low and husky, edged with something she couldn't define. What did he mean by again? She was soon answered when he began to rub again and that feeling began to build again. 

"Again." She whispered, her own voice ragged, and her hand reached out and grabbed his arm, feeling the bare skin of his forearm, it was warm, hot even, the skin was so soft but the muscle under it felt like rock, touching him felt sinful and she loved it. It was building much faster and more intensely than it had previously and she felt like she was coming apart. And then they locked eyes, no longer were his eyes darting around, they held hers, watching as she shattered again. She didn't close her eyes, she didn't want to break the spell, the silent communication between them in a language she couldn't decipher, he had stilled but hadn't moved, his hand continuing to touch her, she just stared at him, and he at her. After what seemed like an eternity, he cleared his throat.

"Well...that seemed to go well. I'll see you a week from now then I guess." He stammered out, she wasn't used to him being flustered. She could only nod in reply but neither of them made an attempt to move, still looking at each other. After another long and should have been awkward silence, Anne realized she was still holding his arm and let go with a small frown, breaking that contact with him felt wrong. That seemed to spur him into noticing his hands were still on her under the blanket. 

"Oh...good day then." He pulled his hands away, threw on his coat, grabbed her chart and left the room. She could barely stand up, her legs were as weak as a newborn foal, and she was a sweaty mess but she smiled to herself as she got dressed. "Twice!" She said with a joyous laugh.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Gilbert and Anne are dealing with missing a "treatment'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thanks for the love!! You all blow me away with the support. This is fairly smut free.

What a miserable week Gilbert was having; Cora Clifford made a return visit to Dr. Ward's and this time, she threw up on Gilbert's shoes. One of his patients died, it was an elderly man, who died peacefully in his sleep but Gilbert was wracked with guilt none the less, maybe he could have done more to help Mr. Hunter. And then there was Anne Shirley. He had spent the weekend, grumpy with the knowledge he wouldn't see her until Friday. Well not entirely grumpy, a good portion of it had been spent with his cock in his hand, remembering the last time she had come in for her treatment. She had been so beautiful, he wasn't sure where the strength had come from, to resist kissing her, to keep himself from touching the tops of her breasts, that had threatened to reveal themselves to him every time she took a breath or a spasm of pleasure had hit her. He had wanted to bury his face there, between her breasts and then bury his cock deep inside of her. To feel her wet, hot walls, clenching him, to feel her legs wrapped around his waist, her hot breath on his neck and have those whimpers and moans against his ear. But his willpower had slipped, he hadn't stopped when she had reached orgasm, he had given her another one, just so he could stare at her shoulders, just to see her bite her lip... just to feel her juices flood his hand again. He had heard the stories of course, the other guys at school, lewdly claiming that if the orgasm was strong enough, or if you hit the right spot with fingers or your cock, a woman could produce a large amount of liquid, ::squirting" they had guffawed and joked. They all claimed to have made a girl squirt, but Gilbert hadn't even believed they had ever found a woman to have sex with, that wasn't a prostitute, and he had treated too many whores to believe they got any pleasure from their customers, let alone enough to squirt. What he felt from Anne hadn't been what he would describe as squirting but it was a rush of liquid, more than she usually had at orgasm, and it had not only enraptured him but it had made him rock hard. 

After he had fled, there was no other word for it, the examination room, he remembered he hadn't washed his hands. He had quickly looked behind him to see if Dr. Ward or Hazel were nearby and brought his right hand to his face, inhaling the scent of her deeply, feeling his aching cock jump. He didn't have anymore patients for the day and Dr. Ward didn't need him, so Gilbert had actually run home and once there, smelled his fingers like some sort of deviant while he stroked himself with his left hand. 

He had been so blatantly unprofessional with her, he half expected to not only be fired but to be arrested for taking advantage of her. But he couldn't help himself, when she had stared into his eyes as she climaxed, he thought he would join her and make a mess in his pants, more than once. She had bewitched him and he had stood there, after the treatment was done, with his hand still on her clitoris for a full three minutes, while they just looked at each other...and that was after he had already said goodbye to her. He tried to rationalize with himself, they were halfway through her treatments, her mood was improving, soon this torture would be over and he could go back to cleaning wounds, treating rashed and setting broken bones. He had already decided he would never treat another woman for Hysteria again. 

But he was also saddened that it would be over. He couldn't pursue a relationship with a patient, he may as well quit because he would be fired and blacklisted from any other medical practice in Atlantic Canada...probably all of Canada. so he would enjoy the memory of her, try to contain himself until then and do his best to treat his other patients with as much professionalism, empathy and understanding as he could. 

"My goodness Anne, you are grouchy today. Has your womanly time got you in a vexed state?" Diana asked as Anne tore up another piece of paper, she was applying for another teaching position, one in St. John, New Brunswick, and had made another spelling mistake. 

"Diana, my moods are a caused by many things, bad news, dangerous weather, a stressful school assignment, an argument with my bosom friend, are all enough to cause me great sorrow or vexation, but my monthly menstruation does not. And I refuse to be one of those women who allow it to be their excuse for episodes of anger." Diana, smiled to herself, she was just happy that sad, listless, joyless Anne was nearly gone and even a raging, cross Anne was much preferred. "It's this application, I feel like my brain is working in unison with my heart, it knows I have no desire to live in St. John, it is simply too far away from Green Gables."

"Then don't apply." Diana, responded simply.

"But I must secure a teaching position."

"You will Anne, I'm sure of it. You have the best grades, all the professors have written you letters of reference. I just know you will find something here on the island. " Diana, was not only Anne's best and dearest friend, she also her biggest fan. 

"What would I ever do without you Diana? If you had gone away to Paris, as your mother wanted, who would be here now? Who would cheer me up? Hug me when I was down? Laugh with me when I was bursting with joy? Take me to the doctor when I was sick?"

"You would do the same for me, and you have, everyday since we first met." They hugged then, both of them treasuring the other. "Maybe this is the reason for your mood. You missed a treatment." Anne instinctively began to deny this but on more reflection she wondered if Diana wasn't right. Did she feel this way because she missed a treatment? Or was it because she missed him?

"The doctor said missing one, wouldn't hinder my progress. I just think my heart isn't in this application. 

"What else does the doctor say?" Diana asked. Anne knew that Diana was keenly interested in what the treatments were and felt like. And for a person who prided themselves on an extraordinary vocabulary, and the talent to use those words to emote feelings and ideas, Anne was at a loss to describe it. 

"Nothing really. But something different did happen last time." Anne finally decided to tell Diana. 

"What?" Diana asked eagerly. 

"Well remember I told you that he massages me, and how it feels amazing and that feeling builds and builds until it is like a dam bursting." At Diana's nod to continue, Anne did. "Well, after that happened, he did it again."

"The treatment?" Diana asked confused. 

Anne nodded. "Yes. He has never done that before and it was even better, stronger...but it was the way he said he was going to give me a second treatment."

"How?" Diana almost whispered, she could tell that Anne was about to reveal something, what she didn't know but the anticipation was almost more than Diana could bear. 

"It was just one word, but it was how he said it and how he looked."

"How?" Diana repeated.

"His eyes were so dark, like storm clouds. And his voice, like he was in pain..." Anne hadn't been able to glimpse and of the gold or green in his eyes. 

"Did he hurt himself during the treatment? Did you do something to anger him?"

"I don't believe so. And then after the treatments were finished, we just stared at each other, for a really long time. And when he finally said he would see me the next time, he stayed there longer, with his hand still..." Anne gestured to the area. Diana's eyes grew wide. "He always seems so unflappable, but he was definitely flustered. He didn't even wash his hands."

"Do you think he had a reaction to you? A passionate one?" Diana asked.

"To me? Don't be absurd. He is so handsome, he probably has a beautiful wife or fiancee. He wouldn't be interested in me! I have freckles and red hair." She exclaimed, ignoring the swelling she felt in her heart.

"Both of which are extremely becoming on you. I wish I could find those people who convinced you that you were plain and unattractive, and shake them. Your beauty glows not only on your lovely face but from within."

"You truly are the most wonderful friend." Anne hugged her again. 

"As are you. Now tell me about this doctor, you never mentioned he was handsome before. "

"He is devilishly handsome, eyes that speak to the depths of a soul, I feel like there is a hidden sorrow in his eyes that he hides so well. He has a wonderful smile, it's the kind that lights up a room and reaches his eyes. And his voice has a wonderful timbre to it, and when he said "again" last time, it was a little husky and rough sounding."

"Well that tells me nothing Anne! Is he tall? What colour are his eyes?"

"His eyes, how can I use a colour to describe eyes that are the warmest brown, with molten amber swirling through, and flecks of green and even hints of grey? His hair is lovely, the perfect shade of brown, almost black but not quite, like a cup of coffee, and it looks so soft, my fingers itch to feel those thick curls. It is unfair that man should have such beautiful hair, a crown of riotous chocolate curls is all I have ever wanted. He is tall, Diana, with wonderfully wide shoulders, he is on the lean side but you can tell he is strong and well muscled."

"He sounds ever so handsome Anne." Diana voiced dreamily. 

"He is, Diana, he really is."


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne makes a bold move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow! It's getting hot in here. Hope you all like it, thanks so much for the love and support. Your feedback means everything! Got a snowstorm here today, so I am going to keep writing and hopefully get chapter seven ready for tomorrow.

The more Anne and Diana, had talked about her doctor, the more Anne realized she did have a crush on him, which was of course woefully inappropriate, but she knew that it was easy to get these silly crushes when you were around someone like Dr. Blythe. She'd had fleeting crushes on a few of her professors, she was sure this crush would be over soon too. Part of her wanted to believe Diana when she suggested that he might have an attraction to Anne as well. What girl wouldn't want a handsome doctor's affection?

"You should try and ascertain if he really is in love with you." Diana had giggled. 

"Love? He doesn't love me, he barely knows me."

"Well attraction can lead to affection. Find out if he is attracted to you."

"Oh Diana, that would be mortifying. Besides, he must have a wife or a sweetheart." 

"You won't know if you don't ask." 

Those words echoed in Anne's head as she disrobed, and even though the heat wave had passed and the room was quite comfortable, she removed her blouse again, followed by her corset and chemise. She tried to rationalize with the part of her that was nearly shouting at her in disapproval. 'Dr. Ward had told her the first time to remove all clothing.' It was the way it was usually done. She laid on the table and covered herself with the blanket, her stomach aflutter with nerves, her privates, tingling with feelings she didn't have words for, anticipation of that feeling. At his knock she took a deep breath to center herself and called out for him to enter.

The flutter in her stomach became a whirlwind when she saw him. He was just so devastatingly handsome, what a fine chin he had, she noticed something new about him each time. 

"Good afternoon Miss Shirley, how are you feeling?"

"Well thank you. And you?" She had never asked him about himself.

"Quite well, thank you. How are you sleeping?"

"Fine."

"And concentration? Still distracted?"

"Well, not the way I was before. Not in a sad or fearful way. I suppose I have a long history of being easily distracted though."

"We all daydream now and then."

"And what do doctors dream about?" She asked, surprised by her own boldness. He looked up from his notes and held her gaze before answering, as though he was thinking very carefully before speaking. 

"For healthy patients." And she laughed at that, she liked the smile he wore.

"But if they are all healthy, how will you support your family?" She felt like Josie Pye being this forward. She may have well asked if he was married with children.

"I lead the very frugal life of a bachelor doctor in training. No wife or family for me...yet." Did that raised eyebrow mean what she thought it did? Was he flirting? Impossible. "Well shall we begin?" He asked, standing, she nodded and watched him put down the chart, remove his coat and roll up his sleeves and move to the wash basin. 

She took that moment to pull her arms out from under the blanket, keeping her breasts covered and her arms folded neatly over her stomach, which was twisting with nerves. She was about to pull the blanket back up when he turned around, and noticed her bare shoulders, devoid of the chemise straps. 

His mouth moved, to say something but no noise came out, his eyes flew to hers, those eyebrows raised higher than she had ever seen them, his eyes growing dark again. And that's when something inside of Anne realized, the final puzzle piece slipped into place. Maybe it was just something that women had sensed from the dawn of man, knew when they were desired and wanted and when it clicked into place, she felt powerful. He was attracted to her, and she was totally naked under a blanket with a man, whose face was filled with want and need. She smiled, calmly as if it were completely normal, like every other appointment, and he took a deep breath and nodded, as though steeling himself, gathering his strength, before moving toward the table and Anne, she shivered, the air in the room suddenly seemed charged. She felt like a deer, with a wolf stalking toward her, but she didn't sense danger, and Anne was no prey animal, if he were a wolf, she would be the lion. She shifted, as if to get more comfortable, and rearranged the blanket, hoping that as it fell to the floor, it would look like an accident. 

She was naked. Gilbert's brain only just recovering from the concept that she was nude under the blanket, was now completely broken. He couldn't talk, he couldn't move, if he allowed even the slightest movement, he would be on top of her. But he drank her in, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, how perfectly proportioned she was, creamy, alabaster skin, with a smattering of freckles, he wanted to trace them, count them...taste them. He tried not to look at her chest, but it would have taken Herculean strength to not look at her breasts, he was nowhere near strong enough, they were beautiful, a perfect handful, topped with pink nipples, his cock filling with blood when he realized her areolas were the same colour as her lips. His hands, hanging at his sides, clenched and unclenched, as if trying to tell him to do what his whole body was trembling with need to do...take her. 'Do not look Gilbert.' Some annoying voice spoke to him. 'Be Professional.' But he wasn't, he looked, at the small, fiery path of hair, he knew how soft that hair was, knew how wet the lips there would be. He swallowed a groan of need and closed his eyes, breathed deeply and counted to ten in his head. If she noticed his struggle, she didn't say anything, nor moved to cover herself.

"Let me get that for you." He finally spoke, his voice sounding tortured even to himself, and bent over to pick up the blanket, another mistake because now he could smell her, a sweet floral smell, combined with her smell, the smell he had masturbated to, a least three times. He actually began to drool, swallowing thickly he straightened, plastered on a stupid smile and handed the blanket out to her.

"No thank you." She replied as if he asked if she wanted a cup of tea. He just stood there with the blanket in his hand, not knowing what to do.

"You don't want the blanket?" His mouth finally formed words. 

"It's so hot and the wool is terribly itchy, I always get a horrific rash that lasts for hours from it. Would it be alright if I didn't use it?" She said it to him with large, innocent eyes, eyes he wanted to lose himself in. 

"Well I wouldn't want you to get a rash." He dropped the blanket and kicked it out of the way, stepping closer to the table and with the mantra "Be professional" repeating in his head 'It's a little too late for that now Gilbert Blythe.' He chided himself. He placed his left hand on her thigh, he was so much darker in colouring than her, and he was fascinated by the contrast, he shifted his gaze just a few inches and could see her vulva, glistening with her juices and licked his lips. "We should begin." He pushed away the image of his face against her, tasting her, consuming her, and though he told himself to look at the wall and recite the systems of the body and their corresponding organs, he didn't; he looked as his fingers slid so easily between her lips and heard her sigh at the contact, spreading her legs a little wider and granting him a flash of wet pink skin tucked away behind her labia. He watched in fascination as his hand began to make the slow, soft circles around her clitoris and her hips moved slowly in time with him. He studied the way her muscles and tendons moved, in her thighs, and stomach, he could write a medical paper on her, although it would probably be more erotic fiction than science based. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her hands move, one going up to her hair and sinking into the thick halo of fire, the other began tracing lazy up and down strokes between her breasts, he wanted to die there, between her breasts, take his last breath and die a happy man. He looked at her face, sure to see a look of fear and horror on her face, he was a sexual deviant and she must know it by now, but she was staring at him, a half smile on her face, her pleasure evident. She gasped as he picked up pace and closed her eyes for a moment, biting her lip and throwing her head back, bucking her hips against him.

She couldn't be real, words like temptress, nymph, dryad, succubus and goddess clouded his mind, the only thought he could focus on was to make her moan, bring her to orgasm, watch her fall apart. As she got closer, her whimpers turned to cries, and he felt her hand on his arm, again drawn to the contrast of her tiny white hand against his skin, felt the heat from her hand course through him, straight to his aching cock. He wanted her so badly, he could cry. The need was too much, he thought he would go mad from it. 

When she sat up a bit, resting her weight on her elbows, and looked down, to where his hand was working, he actually did groan out loud, too far gone to care, he watched her breasts bounce from their movements, those pink nipples, hardened to tight little peaks. She came, her hand covering her mouth to smother the cries, head back, still resting on one arm, her exposed neck, begging him to suck on it. He didn't stop, he didn't slow down, he continued, picking up the pace and bringing her to another orgasm, just seconds after the last one, she collapsed onto her back, her hand, now free again to grab his arm, squeezing it, holding it against her, between her soft thighs, her breath was ragged and heavy, he could see her eyes were shut tightly, and still he continued, rubbing her to another climax, her body spasmed and she rolled toward him, clamping her legs together on his hand, resting her face against his arm, her breath tickling his arm hair. 

"No more, please." She begged, through her heavy breathing. He had gone too far, he pulled his hand away and realized he was also having trouble catching his breath, his cock was so hard it was causing actual pain. 

"I'm sorry.."He began, worried he had hurt her or caused distress. She shook her head slowly, moving back to lay on her back.

"I'm not." She actually chuckled. He moved away then, and while she was laying with her eyes closed, he stuck his fingers in his mouth and tasted her, not allowing the moan of pleasure he had, to escape. He quickly washed his hands and dried them, picked up the blanket and laid it over her, just in case anyone was in the hallway , when he opened the door, took her chart and moved to the door. 

"Have a pleasant weekend Miss Shirley." He refused to meet her eyes because he knew he wouldn't leave if he did. 

"You too Doctor." She replied and he nodded and left the room.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Treatment Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter, hope you all like it. Thanks as always for your love, support and feedback. One, maybe two chapters to go, but I already have a oneshot started and a longer story floating around in my brain.

She left the office just before him, he had caught his breath and willed his erection down, put away the charts and put on his hat and coat and caught a flash of red, just exiting the door. He waved goodbye to Hazel and also left the office, looking left and right to see which way she had gone. She was across the street. about a hundred feet away. She was walking in the same direction he needed to go, it wasn't following her, he told himself. When she turned off Euston St. down Queen St, Gilbert did too. It wasn't the way he usually went home, but it wasn't out of the way either, and there was a restaurant there that he liked. He considered approaching her, when she stopped to look at some hats in a window, but was too afraid. He continued to follow her on Queen St., but when she passed Grafton St. he stopped, that would have been well out of his way. He watched her walk for a few more moments and turned for home.

Along the way he thought of her, he wanted her so badly, he couldn't remember ever wanted someone so much. He had urges of course but never had he been in a near constant state of arousal. He also wanted to know her, what hobbies did she have? She wanted to be a teacher, what was her preferred subject? What was her favourite novel, song or dessert? Did she like animals? Dancing? Singing? Going to parties? Or was she a homebody? Did she have a beau? Was she courting? He shook the thoughts away from his mind, he couldn't pursue a friendship, let alone a romantic relationship with her, she was a patient and that just wasn't done. He wished he had someone to talk to it about, but his dad was dead, his two older brothers were dead and his mother was dead, Gilbert had no grandparents, aunts or uncles. He had a few chums from school that he socialized with, Dr. Ward was his mentor, but no one that he could reveal his soul to. The ache from family never left, but it was particularly painful on that walk home. 

Anne felt like crying when she noticed he wasn't there anymore. She had easily seen him following her on Euston St., even gave him a chance to catch up on Queen, looking in the shop window and giving him plenty of time to approach her. She had fought to keep the smile of anticipation off her face, and then the frown of disappointment when he hadn't come near. She thought perhaps he was going to see where she lived so he could write her a letter or call on her in person but when he failed to cross Grafton to keep up with her, she couldn't keep the ball of misery out of her stomach. She knew he had experienced something with her in that room, he had been struggling with his passion, even an inexperienced girl like her could see it. And he had sent her over the edge of that cliff again and again, it had felt beautiful, like instead of falling she was flying. Sighing to herself she accepted that he must just live that way or was going to an appointment along her route. 

Diana was waiting on the verandah when Anne arrived home to Blackmore House, "How did it go? What happened? Is he married?"

"Let's talk in our room." Anne, did not want anyone else to hear this conversation. They ran up the stairs and into their room with the door closed, Anne removed her hat and gloves while Diana watched from the edge of her bed, Anne joined her and took her hand.

"Oh Diana, I felt like a wanton seductress."

"Anne!" Diana gasped.

"If I tell you what transpired, I am afraid you will be so scandalized that you might lose some of the love and respect you have for me." Anne told her sadly.

"That could never happen. I can't promise I won't be shocked or outraged but I will always love and respect you. I promise."

"I hope that's true, it would break my very soul to not have your support."

"Just tell me. I feel like I am going to burst with curiosity."

"Well he definitely isn't married."

"You asked him that? Diana asked eyes wide, if she was already shocked by a simple question, Anne was in trouble.

"Oh Anne...I simply haven't the words." Diana, still held Anne's hand, she had listened quietly for the most part, but asked questions when she had them. 

"Do you hate me?" Anne asked, her chin trembling.

"Not at all. I don't know what to think, part of me is scandalized but not in the way you think. I am not disappointed in you, frankly I am a bit curious and a little jealous."

"Jealous? Of me? Diana, you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen. I assure you, there is no need to be envious of me."

"Because you threw caution to the wind, Because you thumbed your nose at the rules. And you have a handsome doctor enraptured."

"Enraptured." Anne laughed, "Maybe a little interested but certainly not enraptured."

"Oh the way you describe him, trembling and breathing deeply, trying to appear unaffected."

"Maybe it's just how men are. Would we think Dr. Ward was interested in me if he was doing the treatments?" Anne rationalized. "Or maybe it is just because Dr. Blythe is younger. You've seen how some of these boys at school try and paw at the girls."

"Or maybe it is just because you are a beautiful and alluring woman. I can't believe you actually dropped the blanket on the floor." Diana giggled. 

"You and me both. Even now, it seems impossible that I did it. At the time I wasn't nervous but now, my stomach flip flops at the very idea. But when I saw the reaction he was having, because of me, it felt thrilling, like I could crook my finger and he would come running to my arms." Anne trailed off. "Alas, I couldn't even get him to approach me in front of Brinkley's Millinery."

"Did you see that adorable blue hat in the window? With the white plume and hint of lace?" 

"Diana focus! But yes I did, you would look divine in it."

"I have too many hats already. But let's focus, you're right. We need to decide how you should proceed next."

Anne flopped back on the bed. "It would be so much easier if we knew for certain, he felt the same way I do." Anne considered telling Diana to go for a treatment but felt a hot stabbing jealousy at the idea of Dr. Blythe performing the treatment on anyone else. But that give her an idea.

"Pardon me Miss." Gilbert replied automatically to the woman, who stepped out into his path and he bumped into her. She let out a soft "Oh" and stumbled, he caught her by the elbow and righted her. 

"Begging your pardon!" He exclaimed "I am so sorry. Are you alright?"

"Oh perfectly fine, I am so clumsy. My mother always tells me to watch where I am going but I just...Gilbert Blythe?" He found himself staring into the eyes of a lovely young brunette, with flashing dark eyes and a perfect white smile. He knew her, from before he left for Alberta, when his life had changed, and the last two Blythe men headed west and only one returned to Prince Edward Island. 

"Diana Barry. How wonderful, how have you been? Your family is well I hope?"

"I am very well. I go to Queen's, Mother and Father are well, and they would be most cross with me, if I didn't pass along their well wishes. How was Alberta? We all worried dreadfully when you and your father didn't return and the farm was sold."

"My father passed away just after we arrived in Alberta. I stayed with his friend for a while and then I got early entrance to university, I was at Queen's but now I am an apprentice doctor and should have my license to practice in a year."

"I am so sorry to hear about his passing Gilbert. But you're a doctor. Dr. Blythe, it suits you. Oh! Moody, Charlie, Ruby, Jane, Tillie and Josie are all here too, and the Pauls." 

"So many from Avonlea, here. We must all get together for tea or lunch one day. I would love to hear about Avonlea." He missed the small community still, it had been such a simple time, but he was never destined to be a farmer.

"I will let them all know you are here in Charlottetown, how would I be able send you an invitation?" She had a look of appreciation on her face and a flirtatious smile. She was pretty and had always been sweet when they were younger, but he couldn't couldn't even feign any interest beyond friendship. Not when Anne Shirley lived in this world. 

"Have any contact or invitations sent to me at Dr. Ward's office on Euston. I really must run Diana, it was a great pleasure to run into you and send my best to your parents please."

He hurried off, hoping she would have the old gang get together.

How was it possible that "her" Dr. Blythe was the same Gilbert Blythe that Ruby had talked about loving for three years? About his beautiful sorrowful eyes, he did have those, his perfect smile and dashing ways. Anne had quietly hated Gilbert Blythe, always hearing how much everyone loved and missed him, how he was so nice and the smartest boy in their class. His family's farm was next to Green Gables but they were gone before Anne arrived and they never returned. She remember sneaking to the orchard a few times, for apples before the Walton's had bought the property. She hadn't been able to resist pressing her face up to the windows, peering in at the furniture draped in white cloths, imagining the people, now buried in the small family cemetery, living and loving each other in the beautiful stone farmhouse. Now he was her doctor, one she was ridiculously attracted to. 

The relief she felt when Diana assured her that he had shown absolutely no romantic interest in her had been physical. She had felt a tension she wasn't even aware of, leave her shoulders and the knot in her stomach disappeared. Maybe it was her... The knock on the door let her know he was there.

"Come in."

"Good afternoon, how are you feeling today?" He consulted the chart, his pen ready to make a notation if needed. 

"Quite well, thank you. And you?"

"Very good thank you."

"Before we begin Doctor, I should say, I think this should be our last appointment. I am feeling so much better and beyond the usual daily distractions, I am feeling very much like myself. I don't think this is necessary anymore."

"Come in." She called out to him, and he opened the door and entered the room. Almost stopping dead in his tracks when he saw her there on the table, her hair was unbound, and he could see her bare shoulders again, she was nude.

"Good afternoon, how are you feeling today?" He looked at the chart for something to keep his eyes on, knowing he would be entranced by the colours in her hair.

"Quite well. And you?" She asked. How was he? He felt like he was losing control of himself, anytime he wasn't with a patient, Dr. Ward or a medical book, he was thinking about her. Maybe he should be seeking the help and advice of a doctor.

"Very good thank you." He lied.

"Before we begin Doctor, I should say, I think this should be our last appointment. I am feeling so much better and beyond the usual daily distractions, I am feeling very much like myself. I don't think this is necessary anymore."

She wanted to stop and he was devastated. Of course she wanted to stop, he was taking advantage of her. The desperate part of him wanted to tell her to continue, it was only two more treatments, possibly more if Dr. Ward thought it necessary. But the part not ruled by his cock, the part that thought Hysteria was ridiculous diagnosis, and the treatments moreso, that part knew he had to respect her wishes. 

"If you feel it's best. I'm sure missing the last two treatments won't hurt you. Are you sure you want to proceed today?" He held his breath waiting for her answer. 

"I'm sure."

"I'll make a note of it on your chart and you talk to Hazel about cancelling the other appointments."

"Thank you Doctor." She smiled. 

He nodded and went to wash his hands, when he turned back to her, he was relieved and saddened to see her blanket still covering her. He moved to the table and put his hand under the blanket, on her thigh in it's usual spot, his right hand, finding her vulva and dipping between the lips to stroke her clitoris. They held each other's gazes as she moaned softly, biting her lip, how he longed to kiss her, to feel those lips against his. Her back arched, and the blanket completely slid down to her waist, her perfect breasts with their pink nipples were so close to his mouth, he would only need to bend slightly and take one into his mouth, his mouth watered at the idea. He could tell she was getting closer, her hips moving much quicker and her cries and whimpers, starting to sound desperate to his ears. He was staring at the freckle that lived just beside her mouth, one of his favourites, when her hand closed around his wrist, he was used to that an looked down, pleased to see her small hand around his wrist. His hand working on her clitoris stilled when she took his left hand and moved it from her thigh, and brought it up to her face, placing her hand over his, to make him cup her cheek, nestling her face into his hand. He could feel her hair, softer than any silk he had felt, a few inches upward and he would have a handful of the tresses he had so admired. Yet he didn't move to touch her hair, instead, he held her cheek, and stroked his thumb over her face, toward her lips, the minute he touched the soft skin there, they both moaned and her hips bucked against his hand and that urged his hand back into it's motions. She was so close, she would fall over the edge in a moment he knew, and he didn't resist her when her hand left his wrist and grabbed his tie, pulling his face toward hers, leaving just the smallest space between their lips. 

"This is highly inappropriate, Miss Shirley." He whispered, he had to give her one last chance. 

"I know that Dr, Blythe." She replied before lifting her head and touching her lips to his. He kept his hand moving, but sunk into her kiss, neither of them had a lot of experience, that was clear, but want and need and instinct made it wonderful. Their lips moved against each other and when Gilbert dipped his tongue between her lips, tasting her, she cried into his mouth, her body stiffening with orgasm, her nails digging into the hand still holding her face. 

"Again." She whispered against his lips and he happily complied, he let the hand holding her face, trail down and stroke the bare skin on her shoulder, feeling the hard line of her clavicle, her hard nipples pressing into his chest, where it touched her. 

"May I kiss you here?" He asked stroking the collarbone. 

"Yes." She gasped, her hands coming to his head and digging her fingers in to the scalp, he groaned at the sensation. He knew she was close and he tried his luck once more as he laid a kiss on the side of her neck, watching goosebumps breakout over her. 

"May I kiss you here?" As her stroked the swell of her breast. 

"Please do." She begged and he immediately lowered his head and dropped kisses on her chest, when he boldly took a nipple into his mouth, he heard her stifle a scream and felt a gush of wetness on his fingers. He let her nipple go and laid his head between her breasts and she cradled his head, brushing the hair off his face, while they caught their breath. Finally, reluctantly he lifted his head, and straightened his back, removing his hands from her body. He smiled down at her, not knowing what to say, torn between apologizing and declaring his devotion. 

"So beautiful. " Was all he could say, he took her hand and pressed a long kiss to the palm. He then covered her up, grabbed the chart and left before the tears he felt in his eyes, spilled.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The depths of despair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is AofO acting strange for anyone else?
> 
> This is the penultimate chapter, fairly smut free but there is some Shirbert. Hope you all enjoy it and thanks for all the love and support.

He didn't write or call on her at Blackmore House. She hadn't asked him to, but she had hoped that after that last treatment, that he would somehow find her. It had been almost a month, and she couldn't stop thinking about him and their final moments together. It had been so emotional, she felt like their souls had connected, she had cried on the way home, from the swirling emotions she had felt. Could that connection happen between two people who didn't care for each other? She wasn't a fool, she knew she didn't love him, but there was something there, more than a spark of physical attraction, it was as if her heart knew him. She was morose after.

"Diana, I am in the depths of despair!" She wailed dramatically as Diana entered their room. "I am unable to concentrate again, and we are approaching final exams, I'm still worried for Matthew and Marilla and don't forget about the existential crisis I am having about becoming an adult and moving far away. I am right back where I started before the treatments with Dr. Blythe...Gilbert, except now I have a huge crush on him."

"Don't be sad, Anne, there is too much to be excited about."

"There is nothing to be excited by. The joy and happiness in my life has been stolen from me." Diana shook her head at Anne's words.

"Aunt Josephine is throwing Cole a 20th birthday party at the manse, and Cole has decided the theme will be a masked ball, and he has asked me to play a piece on the piano and wants you to recite a poem...but nothing as long as The Raven." Anne jumped from her bed, her heart pounding. 

"Oh Diana, I had so much fun at the last masked party. What shall we wear? I want a mask that will evok, magic and mystery."

"Maybe you will meet a new beau there." Diana laughed eyes flashing.

"Don't be ridiculous." Anne replied and began listing the poems she wanted to recite.

"Gilbert, you have to come. The whole gang will be there, and you always got along well with Cole, back in Avonlea." Charlie continued to try and persuade Gilbert to go to some fancy party. 

"I don't know, I'm just not in the mood for a party." Gilbert reposded. He was in a restaurant with Moody, Charlie and one of the Pauls, he thought it was Paul L., but was too embarrassed to ask. He had been feeling down since his last appointment with Anne. He missed her, wanted to take her out for tea and sweets and walks around the city but knew that path was closed to him. 

"This isn't just a party! You haven't lived until you've gone to a Josephine Barry party. The food is impeccable, things I have never even seen before, the entertainment is amazing. Last time she had a party there were women who juggled fire and swallowed swords." Moody exclaimed, the other guys nodded. 

"And the girls sometimes drink alcohol, last time Tillie was drunk she let me kiss her." Paul offered. 

"It does sound intriguing." Gilbert admitted. 

"Just come, if you don't like it you can eat, drink and leave early." Charlie offered. 

"Alright, I'll come. Where do I get a mask for this anyway?"

"The house has electricity." Moody announced as he and Gilbert climbed the stairs to the impressive home. 

"It is a beautiful structure." Gilbert said as he fixed his mask on his face, it was plain black silk, all of the Avonlea guys were wearing the same style, he had on his nicest suit, a black one with a white dress shirt, and a black bow tie. Moody was dressed similarly but he had a top hat and white gloves on also, the gloves already streaked with some dirt, when Moody had almost fallen off the wooden sidewalk and he had saved himself by grabbing a barrel on the walkway. 

They rang the bell and were greeted by a man Moody called "Rollins", who let them in. If Gilbert had imagined the most opulent, extravagant. outrageous party in his mind, it would seem a child's tea party to this. There were paper lanterns lining the hall, emitting soft colourful glows, a waiter immediately offered them a glass of champagne, which they both took, he followed Moody to the ballroom, toward the dull roar of the party, a mixture of people laughing, talking and music playing. He stopped frozen, by the entrance, there were fresh flowers hanging from the ceiling, paper lanterns tucked in here and there, a band was playing on a stage, people were dancing, some were watching a woman, indecently dressed in Gilbert's opinion, in some sort of sequined outfit that resembled underclothes, she was contorting her body. He shook his head in amazement. 

"Gilbert Blythe, you are really here!" A feminine voice said from his right side, he turned and looked at a stunning blonde, wearing a pink dress and matching pink mask, accented in shining rhinestones. He recognized her, easily, she had followed him around for a year straight before he moved to Alberta. 

"You are as lovely as ever, Miss Gillis." He returned the greeting, and her cheeks reddened.

"Hey! Ruby is my girl. Don't try and steal her from me." Moody, teased but there was a tone that Gilbert thought was serious. Gilbert held up his hands in a gesture of peace.

"I couldn't if I tried."

"Let's go find Cole, he is dying to see you again." Ruby commanded and the three made their way to a tall, handsome blond man, in a red mask and red suit, he looked like the devil. 

"Cole, Gilbert is here." Cole turned from the people he was talking to and smiled. 

"Well, well, welcome back Gilbert Blythe." 

"Good to see you and Happy Birthday Cole." Gilbert greeted him with a handshake. "Here." He offered Cole a small present wrapped in brown paper. It was a pencil set that Moody told him Cole would use. 

"You didn't have too, but thanks." Cole added them to the mountain of presents on a table beside him. "Now, tell me all about yourself. I hear you are a doctor, you always were the nicest boy in Avonlea, it only makes sense you want to help people."

They stood there catching up, Gilbert learning about Cole's artwork and Ruby's studies, and it seemed like no time had passed since his last day in the Avonlea schoolhouse. 

"And now a reading of "Annabel Lee" by Cordelia." An older woman, dressed in finery and no mask, announced. The crowd applauded, Ruby hopped up and down.

"This is going to be so wondrous." She exclaimed. A woman entered the room, she was tall and thin, her waist cinched even more by a corset, her dress was a deep blue, like the sky just after sunset. Across the bodice was a shimmer of sparkling beads, it had a generous train, it wasn't as high necked as most of the dresses, it revealed just a few inches of upper chest and her long neck, the sleeves didn't go all the way down to her her wrists, the stopped just below her elbow in tiered layers, on her hands were gloves made from black lace, and her mask was made of the same lace, more of a strip of fabric tied around her eyes, than the traditional mask shape. She had an incredible mass of gleaming red curls, tumbling around her face and shoulders, she hadn't spoken yet, she was taking a few breaths and letting the suspense build, but he knew right away who it was. His gut was telling him, he walked toward her, leaving Moody, Cole and Ruby, mid conversation, he had to be closer. 

"It was many and many a year ago,  
In a kingdom by the sea,  
That a maiden there lived whom you may know  
By the name of Annabel Lee;  
And this maiden she lived with no other thought  
Than to love and be loved by me."

She delivered the first lines, with a low voice, building the tension, placing her hand over her heart, when she said "loved by me". Gilbert remembered how he had lain his head in that very spot, had kissed her there. He had made his way to the very front of the audience and took her in, in all her respendid glory. From here he could see that freckle, the one just beside her mouth, his favourite one. She was good, invested, poured every ounce of her passion and soul into the recitation, she w  
ould have been a great performer on a stage, but she wanted to educate the future generations. 

"But our love it was stronger by far than the love  
Of those who were older than we—  
Of many far wiser than we—  
And neither the angels in Heaven above  
Nor the demons down under the sea  
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul  
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams  
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;  
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes  
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;  
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side  
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,  
In her sepulchre there by the sea—  
In her tomb by the sounding sea."

The despair in her voice, emoted the sadness and heartbreak of the author, he thought he could see her eyes sparkling with tears and he wanted to hold her, to comfort her, to be with her. He joined the audience in clapping enthusiastically. she curtsied and called out a thank you, to them all. And then she walked toward him.

Anne took a deep breath and entered the room when Aunt Jo announced her, she spotted Diana and Jane, near the front easily but her eyes were drawn to the back where Cole and Moody were talking with Ruby and...it couldn't be. But she knew that profile, the unruly curls, that fine chin, how was he here? She took a few calming breaths and began, trying not to solely focus on Dr. Gilbert Blythe as he walked toward her. She began her recitation, looking around the room, but more often than not, looking at him, drinking him in. He was dressed so smartly, every inch a handsome doctor, her fingers itched to feel his hair again, she longed to feel his lips on her throat once more. 

She had picked this piece because it had long been one of her favourites, but it had mirrored her emotions, she had lost a potential love, now she thought she should have performed "How Do I Love Thee?" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. She finished the poem, curtsied and thanked them all, then she made a beeline for Gilbert. 

"You were incredible." He said as she approached.

"How are you here?" She asked at the same time.

"I lived in Avonlea until I was fourteen, Cole invited me." He answered. 

"Did he now? Did you know I moved to Avonlea when I was 13? I was adopted by Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert. Green Gables is my home. I stole apples from your orchard, before it was sold."

"I would gladly give them all to you, if you desired them." He had never before talked like that to anyone, he was not a natural flirt, he knew he had charm and an easygoing way about him that people liked, but never so openly had he behaved like this. He found he liked it, the way her eyes widened, the smile that formed on her face.

"Dr. Blythe, this is highly inappropriate." She whispered

"I know that Miss. Shirley." He responded, taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor. 

They danced for most of the night, only briefly stopping to eat something and have refreshments. He didn't know if he felt the light headed, euphoria because of the alcohol or her. All night he had flirted outrageously with her, complimented her neck, leaning in close and letting his lips just brush her ear. "I could spend eternity kissing your neck." She had gasped lightly at the words, her cheeks flooding with colour, but she had squeezed his hand and replied. 

"Sounds like the perfect way to spend eternity."

If they danced closer than was proper, no one at this celebration of debauchery and acceptance took notice. Gilbert barely registered that there were men dancing with men, or that two women were kissing quite passionately in a corner. 

The alcohol took it's hold on her and loosened her tongue. "I haven't been able stop thinking about you." She admitted. 

"I too, have spent most of my time thinking of you." His hand on the small of her back, squeezed a little tighter, drawing her even nearer.

"Why haven't you contacted me? I was nearly mad, thinking I imagine...this"

"It is not fantasy Anne, I have felt something between the two of us since that first day, but I shouldn't have. I was performing a medical service for a patient, I should never have been aroused by it." He confessed. "I thought you had realized I was some opportunistic letch and severed the treatments because of it. I couldn't talk to you in a personal way because it goes against the rules and ethics of my profession."

"Do you...do you feel the same way when you perform the procedure on other patients?" She asked, afraid he would say yes.

"I have never done it to another patient, just you, and only you. I told Dr. Ward, I wasn't going to do it anymore because I don't think Hysteria is a condition, and if it is, the treatment is not the cure."

"But I did feel better." She furrowed her eyebrows, taking in his words, had she really needed it?

"Of course you did. Orgasms, do all sorts of things to the body, improved blood flow, more oxygen to the brain, they are doing research in that field more everyday. But you probably would have improved on your own, you don't seem like the type of woman to wallow in sadness for long."

She thought back to her earlier years, she had endured so much at the asylum and with her foster families, but she had always managed to see something beautiful, even in those dark places. "You may be right, but those orgasms?" He nodded at her. "They do feel wonderful. I'm sure more women would demand the treatments if they knew."

"You're probably right. You know...those don't have to happen exclusively in a doctor's office. Those are feelings and sensations that should happen between two lovers, spouses." 

"Oh..." And finally it all clicked together for her. Why it wasn't talked about openly, why the treatments made her heart soar. There were doctors performing acts that should be taking place in the marriage bed. Did married women feel like that all the time? "How do they get any chores done? "

He laughed, "I suspect if you were mine, I wouldn't get a lot done."

"You know Dr. Blythe, I am supposed to have two more treatments." She reminded him, loving the way his eyebrows rose in surprise. 

"I would need to check your chart but I do seem to recall something like that, and perhaps more treatments if needed."

"They are definitely needed Dr. Blythe." And she gently tugged on his arm to follow her.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here it is, I suck at endings. Part of me always wants to be like Diana and kill everyone off. LOL Thanks for the love, support and feedback and I hope to see you all when I post the next one.

They passed many more couples in the hallway, Ruby and Moody, kissing in an alcove among them. She led him upstairs and to a room, down the long corridor, passing Cole and another man, coming out of a room, Cole's hair was in a disarray, and he winked at Gilbert. Once inside the room, she locked the door and he couldn't resist anymore. with her back to him, he pulled her into his arms, and kissed her hair. 

"This feels so right." He said as he trailed kisses down the side of her face. She placed both hands, flat against the door, for support, and he leaned against her more, holder her tighter, rubbing his erection against her bottom. 

"It does." She moaned, bringing one hand up behind her to hold his head, tilting her head, so he could brush her hair away and get his mouth on the spot where her shoulders and neck met. "Help me with my dress."

He stepped back and began undoing the long line of buttons that ran the length of her spine, as soon as there was enough room to slip off her shoulders, she let it slide down in a pool around her feet. She stepped away from the material and turned to face him "I won't get this back on if we remove it now." She gestured to her corset.

"It won't get in my way." He told her, pressing her back against the door, cupping her cheek with his hand, and kissing her. She was finally free to touch him, and she took advantage of it, letting her hands drift all over his arms, chest, shoulders and back, she loved the feel of his muscles under her hand.

"Take this off." She ordered against his lips, pulling at his suit jacket, he complied without breaking their kiss, letting her help him and then throwing it away somewhere in the room.

"The bed." She suggested as he kissed her ear, one of his hands at the back of her neck, the other on her waist, holding her against him.

"The bed." He agreed and dropped his other hand to her bottom, and lifted her off her feet, "Put your legs around me." He told her and she did, gasping against his neck, at the sensation between her legs. He carried her to the bed, and he placed her gently on the edge of the bed, she still had her shoes on, and he knelt to remove them. When his task was complete, he touched her inner thigh, smiling at the goosebumps that broke out over her skin at his touch. 

"May I kiss you here?" He asked, stroking his hand over a spot of skin, just at the lacey hems of her bloomers. 

"Yes." She whispered, when his mouth touched her skin there, she grabbed a hold of his head and a handful of his hair. He kissed her on both legs, pushing the hem of her bloomers up as far as they would go, to get at the tender warm flesh. 

"May I remove.."

"Yes!" She didn't let him finish, together they got the bloomers unfastened and down over her legs and feet, Gilbert still on the floor between her legs, his hands on her thighs, squeezing and rubbing. She could feel the brush of his breath over her now exposed privates, it felt deliciously wicked, she knew Marillia would not approve, but what Marilla didn't know. Gilbert was almost at eye level with her, seeing her in a way no one, not even Anne had ever seen, she resisted the urge to close her legs, she knew the feelings Gilbert could stir inside of her and she was nearly desperate to feel them again. 

He used his hands to gently push her legs apart, taking in the red hair, the labia already wet with her need. "I'm going to kiss you here Anne." He told her as he ran a thumb up and down the skin there, spreading her juices around. She just nodded, having no words to his announcement. She inhaled a sharp breath of shock when she felt his first tentative kiss there, but soon she was moaning, a handful of his curls in one hand, the other supporting her on the bed. His tongue was delving into her folds, teasing her clitoris and dipping into her tight hole, and Anne felt like she had lost control of her body. She was bucking, jerking from pleasurable spasms, crying out, louder than ever before, she could see flashes of lights behind her eyelids and the pleasure building inside of her felt like she would burst. She collapsed backward on the bed, back arched, legs held open only by the strength of Gilbert's hands. 

"Dr. Blythe...Gilbert. Oh goodness..." Were the only words she was actually able to form, just like when he used his hand, he didn't stop abruptly but slowed down, letting her come back to her body slowly. She opened her eyes to him grinning at her, wiping his face with the back of his hand. 

"That's not a medical treatment is it?" 

And he laughed he sat beside her on the bed. "Definitely not."

"And what about men?" She asked.

"What about us?" He asked, his brows furrowed.

"What do they do when they are hysterical?" She asked.

"That diagnosis, is not often applied to men."

"Gilbert, I am asking how to make you feel like I do. Is it just sex?" She whispered the word. Being at college had opened her eyes and given her some knowledge to what went into making a baby, sher knew that sex had to happen, she just didn't know what else couples did, she had never imagined the feeling, the orgasms, a new word for her, happened or that a man could use his hands or mouth, she just thought it was very mechanical. 

"Sex is one thing, but I don't think we should do that." She nodded her agreement, "But the things that make you feel good, also apply to me."

"So I could touch you? Or kiss you..there?" She glanced down at his groin, seeing a bulge there. 

"You don't have to."

"Take your pants off." She told him. Her eyes, never leaving him as he, unbelted his pants, kicked off his shoes and stood to remove the trousers. "The underwear too." She ordered. He took a breath and dropped them too, standing before her in his dress shirt, tie and socks. "You may as well remove the shirt at this point." She observed him remove the garments. 

Then he stood before her, her head was tilted to the side as she studied him, he felt self conscious but remembered how bold she had been when nude in front of him and held his breath waiting for her reaction.

"It's bigger than I had imagined." She commented, and his chest swelled with pride. "I always thought they were the same size as a baby." He chuckled at that, and at how proud he had been a moment before. 

"Well, I will just pretend I didn't hear the second part." he teased as he sat on the bed, his head by the pillows, and patted the spot next to him for her to occupy. 

"Will you tell me what to do?"

"Just do what you feel like, if I don't enjoy it, I will tell you." She nodded and leaned against his chest to kiss him, he wrapped his arms around her and stroked her back. Her hands began a gentle, hesitant exploration of his chest, brushing over his nipples, slowly making her way down toward his dick. She smiled against his mouth, when she rubbed her hand over the length of him, using just the tips of her fingers, and he groaned softly, placing his hand over hers, showing her how to wrap her hand around it and stroke it up and down. It didn't take long, before he was thrusting into her hand, helping her set the pace, her lips on his neck helped too.

"Squeeze harder." He gasped, his head resting against the headboard, eyes darting between watching her hand on his cock and her face, watching her face. "You are incredible." He whispered when she looked up at him and caught his eye.

"Should I kiss it?" She asked and he almost came then. He shook his head.

"Not this time, I'm too close. " She smiled at his use of this time, and continued to stroke him. He groaned and she saw white liquid coming out of his cock, warm and sticky it coated her hand. He gently reached out to stop her, laying his head against the pillow, eyes closed and catching his breath, after a few moments he reached for his pants and pulled out his handkerchief, and wiped her hand clean, then his cock and stomach. 

"Do we have a little while to just stay here? Or is someone going to come looking for their bed?" He asked.

"I'm staying in here tonight, we have time."

"Do we have to go back to the party?"

"I don't want to. Cole saw us, he knows we are in here. He won't be bothered."

"Then take off that corset and let me hold you properly."

Her favourite colour was pink, but she insisted she couldn't wear it due to her colouring, he disagreed. Her birthday was in March, her favourite book was Pride and Prejudice, she loved Marilla's plum puffs best of all, she hated to sew, loved to write, and explore woods. 

"Will you call on me?" She asked him at one point, after he had pulled the blankets over them both, after he had kissed her and rubbed his fingers over her again and again, but before she had taken him into her mouth.

"Everyday." He announced. 

"Well Mrs. Blackmore only allows suitors to visit on Saturday afternoons. I suppose I will have to call on you."

"Everyday?"

"Except Saturday afternoons." 

fin


End file.
